if the fates allow (have yourself a merry little christmas)
by notdonewithyou
Summary: Captain Swan AU for CS Secret Santa: "You work at the best bakery in town and I need an insane amount of cookies for this party."


Emma was mentally kicking herself as she ran around her apartment, trying to get ready as quickly as she could, and all the while searching on her phone where the best bakery in town was. She felt like such an idiot; Emma wasn't one for the Christmas season, so it shouldn't have surprised her that her brother's girlfriend's party has sneaked up on her. She mentally kicked herself again for even volunteering to bring anything. David never threw any big parties; it was mostly just a small get-togethers with their mom—Emma's adoptive mother. But, David had a serious girlfriend who loved throwing parties. Emma was usually immune to Mary Margaret's puppy dog eyes, but she really turned up the charm during the holiday season. Emma had no choice but to agree. After looking at the list of things Mary Margaret needed, she picked the easiest thing on the list: cookies.

She hadn't realized how big the guest list was until her Facebook reminded her of the upcoming event.

She immediately regretted signing up to bring cookies. It seemed Mary Margaret had invited everyone that she and David knew, along with everyone _they_ knew. To make matters worse, it was also serving as a blind date. David and Mary Margaret didn't know when to leave well enough alone.

All of that was why Emma was running around her apartment, trying to figure out which bakery was the best in Boston.

Emma cursed under her breath as a bit of toothpaste dripped from her mouth onto her phone screen. Sighing heavily, she ran into the kitchen to grab a couple of napkins and cleaned off the toothpaste very carefully. She didn't want to have to buy a ton of cookies and a new phone in the same day; the stress was bearing down on her as it was.

"There are several bakeries fairly close to you," Siri said for the umpteenth time.

"No," Emma mumbled before spitting out her toothpaste in the kitchen sink. "I need bakeries with good reviews."

"I found no pictures of redwood booze."

"Useless," Emma said as she manually opened her phone. It took her ten extra minutes, but she finally settled on the bakery with the highest and most reviews. Granny's bakery was across town, but it seemed like it would be worth it. Calling the phone number on the website, Emma was met by a busy signal. She wasn't a religious person but sent up a silent prayer that they could do a big last minute order. And it was a _big_ order.

Emma walked out of her apartment, purse in one hand, toothbrush still in the other. Sighing, she decided she didn't have time to go back in, so she tossed it in the trash outside her apartment as she left. She had extras in her bathroom anyway. As quickly as she could, Emma flagged down a taxi and gave the cabbie the address. Traffic was a nightmare as last minute shoppers hit town with only a week and a half until Christmas. She hoped that meant the bakery was free of crowds.

Of course, given her luck, she had been completely wrong. There was a line out the door, but thankfully it was _just_ out the door. Paying the cab driver, Emma rushed out of the car to grab her place in line. She didn't want to wait out in the Boston cold more than she needed to. She thanked her lucky stars that the line was moving quickly. It seemed like everyone knew what they wanted—probably regulars. All she needed was some sugar cookies. Decorated sugar cookies.

About 300 of them.

When it was almost her turn in the queue, the girl behind the counter was relieved by an elderly woman that Emma assumed was Granny. Followed closely behind her was someone that made her take a second look. A very handsome man walked out of the back, holding the door open for the young woman who had just been relieved. His navy apron was blotted with flour, and he had a small speck on his nose. It was actually quite adorable.

She was so distracted, it took the elderly woman two tries to get her attention. Thoroughly embarrassed—and fairly sure the attractive man had been made aware of her staring by the way the old woman called to her—Emma stepped up, wallet in hand.

"Sorry. I need to place an order," she started, keeping her voice calm and polite. "A rather large order actually."

The elderly woman nodded and reached below the counter, reemerging with a paper and a pen in hand. "Fill out this form as quick as you can."

Emma took the pen and paper, filling out her name and phone number, checking the box for cookies and how many and what kind she needed, as well as the description of what she wanted. She sighed heavily before smiling, happy that it seemed she was going to be able to get the cookies after all. The reviews online hadn't been lying, either. Everything in the store looked delicious. Once she was finished with the form, Emma handed both the pen and paper back to the woman, smiling gratefully.

"Woah, sweetheart. You need an order this big in two days?" The woman asked, looking over the order form. "You must think I'm a miracle worker. We'd need more time."

Emma's smile immediately dropped, her spirit feeling rather crushed. "Oh… Please? You guys are the best bakery in town, and if I don't show up with these cookies, I'll be the worst friend in the world for forgetting about this party. I'll pay extra if that'll help."

"I'm sorry, but I just can't have these ready by Saturday."

The handsome man that had been hanging back behind the counter stepped up then; he was even more attractive up close. The perfect amount of scruff littered his cheeks and chin, small tufts of brown hair hung over his brow. His eyes were so blue, Emma was sure if she wasn't careful, she could get lost in them.

He wrapped his arm around the old woman's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Oh, come on, Gran. Where's your giving spirit? It's Christmas time. And the lady is obviously in distress."

 _Of course_ , Emma thought, _he has an accent_. She kept her face schooled, still looking hopefully between the two of them.

"Killian, she wants three hundred sugar cookies cut and decorated by Saturday evening," Granny said, trying to explain why it was an impossible task.

Killian just shrugged, taking the order form from her hands to look it over. He certainly seemed to think it was doable. "Nothing a little elbow grease can't help with, eh?" When Granny didn't seem to be budging, he dropped his face a little. "Gran, you very well can't deny the woman when she seems so distraught. I'll even work over if you need me to."

Granny looked up at him, and her face immediately softened. It was easy to tell she had a soft spot for the man. "Alright, but it'll be on you if they're not done in time." With that, Granny walked to the other register to open it as the line started to get longer behind Emma.

Killian chuckled as she walked away. "Sorry about her. Things get pretty hectic around here this time of year. She just wants to make sure all the customers are satisfied." He jotted down a couple of notes on the order form.

Emma nodded. "Thank you. I'm really in a bind with this." She started to open her wallet then, but he held up his hand. "I need to pay you, don't I?"

"Not until you get the product, lass. For 25 dozen, plus the short notice, you're looking at a little over a hundred dollars," Killian said, writing down the last of what he needed to.

Emma wasn't surprised; she had actually been expecting to pay more. "That's fine," she said with a soft smile.

He returned her smile, tucking the pen behind his pointed ear. "Well, then. I'll ring you when your cookies are ready for pick up…" He paused to look back at the order form for her name. "Emma Swan. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

Emma couldn't help but scoff, trying to hide her blush. Tucking her wallet back into her purse, she looked back up at him. "You don't need to butter me up. You already have my business."

"Nevertheless, doesn't mean it isn't true," he said, sticking his tongue in his cheek. "See you on Saturday, Swan."

For the rest of the day, Emma couldn't seem to stop smiling.

* * *

The bitter wind whipped along the streets of Boston. She had just finished taking a jumper back to the cops as was on her way back to her car. Downtown had been too bustly for her to park her bug on the street, so she had parked it in a public lot a few blocks over. She wished that she had just taken a cab with how her cheeks burned against the wind. It was too late for that, and she knew she would just have to rough if for the next couple of blocks.

Emma was walking down the street she had been on just a day prior, ordering an offensive amount of cookies. A few hours before, that same street had been buzzing with people out and about, doing this and that to get ready for Christmas. The bakery had a shorter line than it had the day before, most likely because no one wanted to wait in twenty degree weather for a slice of cake, no matter how good it was. While she had been in the bakery, Killian had given her a small sample of a cookie to try, just to make sure she still wanted to use them. It had been quite scrumptious; they would be a hit at the party.

She was still dreading said party and what going to the event would entail. It wasn't the fact that David and Mary Margaret were setting her up that bothered her–though she wasn't entirely overjoyed about it. (She hadn't been in a serious relationship for a long time, since Neal, and she hadn't found anyone worth taking that step with.) It was the fact that Emma knew nothing about the guy they were setting her up with. David had told her it was because she tended to judge before really giving anyone a chance, and that made her think the person they were setting her up with was going to be a Grade A loser. One more thing to look forward to.

Emma almost missed it, keeping her head tucked into her coat to avoid the wind, but at the last minute, she glanced over at the bakery. It seemed completely dead except for the light escaping from the kitchen in the bank. She knew the bakery had closed hours ago, so she wondered who could still be in there. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she walked over and tried the door. It was unlocked. She could feel the warmth coming from inside, convincing herself that's why she stepped in, not because she hoped the person in the back was Killian.

"Hello?" She called out, taking a few steps into the bakery.

There was a crashing sound in the bakery, and Killian stumbled out of the kitchen, looking startled. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he realized it was Emma, his face calmed and a small smile made its way to his lips. "Lass? What are you doing out this late?"

"Work. What about you?"

"Work," he mimicked, wiping the flour from his hands onto his apron. "I'm actually working on the last batches of your cookies."

"Already?" Emma asked, surprised yet happy that they would actually be done in time.

Killian nodded, walking over to the counter and lifting the opening of it. "I've only got three dozen left to make, then I'll ice them tomorrow." He stepped back, allowing room for someone to walk through. "Would you like to come back and keep me company? I'll only be about half an hour, forty five minutes at the most."

Emma thought but for a second. There was just something about this guy that drew her in. That made him dangerous, but David and Mary Margaret's voice flitted into her mind. _Those walls of yours keep too many people out. Live a little._ Blind date tomorrow be damned. "Sure. Only if you let me help though," she said, stepping behind the counter and lowering the opening again. "It's the least I can do for making you stay so long after closing."

Killian seemed surprised by her offer and was about to say no, but when she lifted her brow, almost saying I dare you to say no, he found that he couldn't. "Alright, love. Grab an apron, and take off your coat. It gets warm back here with the ovens on."

Emma shed her beanie and coat as he walked into the back, laying it across the counter. Picking up one of the aprons hanging by the back door, she tied it tightly around her waist and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. When she walked into the back, there were industrial ovens lining the far wall, a large table in the middle partially covered in flour, an industrial freezer built in, and shelves and shelves of ingredients and utensils. "Wow."

Killian chuckled, picking up the utensils he had dropped when she had arrived and surprised him, tossing them in the sink. "It's bigger than you thought it would be?"

"A little, yeah. But I guess with how popular you guys are, I shouldn't be surprised." Emma walked up to the table where there was a large bowl of half mixed dough. Obviously, it was what he had been working on when she had come in. "Where do you want me?"

Killian chuckled, and she wondered what was so funny. "You can help roll out the dough once it's mixed." He picked up a new wooden spoon and got to work on mixing the dough once more.

Emma could see his biceps flex just under his t-shirt sleeve, and she found it hard not to stare. He was very well built, broad shoulders and strong arms. She made her eyes drift away, just in case he caught her staring like he had when she had first seen him. "Why don't you use one of the many stand mixers you guys have?"

"When I can," he started, straining a little as the dough became thicker and harder to mix, "I like to mix it by hand. It's a little impersonal when we use the machines, but they get the job done when we have busy days."

His statement took Emma by surprise. It was a sweet sentiment that she wasn't used to hearing. It was just another thing to add to the list of why she found him so intriguing. That scared her a little, but she was trying to open herself up. She wasn't ready to admit it to her friends, who would quite possibly boast about being right, but it was lonely behind the walls she had made. "That's very sweet," she said quietly. "How'd you get into baking?"

"Granny actually," he said, pulling the spoon from the dough. He cleaned off the excess with his finger and put it in the bowl. He looked up at her, the ghost of a smile just on his lips. "I had just left the Navy, and somehow ended up here in Boston. I was job hunting when I saw the help wanted sign in her window. Went in, filled out an application, and after a couple of weeks of interviews and waiting, she called me. Showed me the ropes. I like learning new things, and I'm a fast learner. Good combination according to Gran."

"So, she's not your actual grandmother?"

"No, but I'd be lucky if she were." Killian lifted the sticky batter from the bowl, a very large glob of it and split it in half. "Take a bit of that flour and put some on your side of the table." Emma did as she was told, and as soon as there was enough, Killian placed half the dough on her side. "Now, put a little flour on a rolling pin and roll it out until it's about a quarter inch thick." As she got the rolling pin ready, Killian already got to work on his dough. "So you said you were out for work. What do you do that requires you to be out at such an hour?"

Emma definitely hadn't expected him to ask about her life, but she wasn't upset by it. In fact, it made the corners of her lips turn up slightly. "I'm a bail bondsperson, actually. I had just finished turning someone over to the police when I walked by here."

"Ah," Killian said, grinning at her. She wasn't sure if it was over her job or her inexperience at rolling out cookie dough. "So you're a superhero." When Emma looked at him like he'd grown a third head, he continued. "You catch the bad guys, don't you?"

Emma couldn't help but laugh as she continued rolling her dough more. "If you want to look at it that way. I'm a superhero in the least conventional sense of the word. It pays the bills, though. And for obscene amounts of cookies."

Killian laughed and looked up at her, having already finished rolling out his dough. "You're rolling it too thin, darling," he said, setting down his rolling pin and moving around to her side of the table. He took her dough from the table, folding it over a few times to make it thicker. Then, he put her back in front of it, stepping behind her to help. "You don't want to press too hard on the dough," he continued, helping her roll it out to the right thickness.

Emma gulped at the close proximity of him. She hadn't allowed herself to be that close to anyone in such a long time. When she had, it had always felt a little off. But something about being so close to Killian felt nothing but right. And that scared her more than anything else about it. Regaining her composure, she smiled gratefully at him, taking over fully. "Thanks. I think I've got it."

If he was disappointed, he hid it very well, stepping away from her quickly and scratching the back of his head as he walked back around the table. Yet another thing that made Emma think he was too adorable for his own good. She didn't understand how it was possible for a man to be handsome, adorable, and sweet all at once. She wasn't there to think about that, though, so she did her best to focus on her dough and nothing else.

They didn't talk much after that, Killian bringing out the cookie cutters for them to use. A couple of times, they reached for the same one at the same time, their fingertips brushing. It made it hard to concentrate when she felt the little pulse of electricity from his touch the first time; she wondered, for a moment, if he felt it, too, before pushing those thoughts from her mind. They were dangerous thoughts that didn't need to be stoked.

When all the cookies were cut and laid out on baking sheets, Killian slid them all into the large oven, waiting for them all to bake. Of course, it wouldn't take as long as it would have if they were only baking a dozen at a time.

"Thank you for doing this," she said for what felt like the hundredth time. "I would have shown up empty handed to my party without you."

"You didn't do such a bad job," Killian said, nudging her shoulder with his.

Emma nudged him back, keeping her eyes on the oven in front of them. She definitely didn't need to be looking him in the eye. "I'm not the one who mixed the cookie dough. You did that. And you'll be doing all the icing and whatnot."

"Touché."

Emma could feel his eyes on her, looking her over, trying to figure her out. _Good luck with that_ , she thought. _I don't even know myself that well._ But there was something about the man next to her that made her want to let him get to know her. She wanted him to know that her favorite ice cream was rocky road and that she loved listening to 70's classic rock. She wanted him to find out that the right side of the bed was hers, and there was no way that was changing. She wanted him to figure out that little habit of twirling her hair when she's doing a crossword. Emma barely even knew they man next to her, but she knew if she let him, he could be a big part of her life. His flirting had shown that he liked her and wanted to get to know her, she just didn't know how to let him in yet.

Once the cookies were out and on cooling racks, Killian told her there was nothing left to do for the night. So, they hung up their aprons, and he helped her slide her coat back on. One of the many gentlemanly things she had seen him do over the past couple of days. They walked out together, and the cold hit Emma hard, the warmth of the bakery washing away as the snow fell on them.

"Well, Emma," Killian said as he locked the door. "Thank you for the company and for the help." He turned to her as he pocketed the keys, snowflakes catching in his eyelashes. "I'll call you when they're iced and ready for pick up tomorrow."

"Thank you," Emma said, eyes fluttering to get rid of the snow, "for working so hard on this. It means a lot."

They stood there for a moment, in a swirl of snow and wonderment. It looked like something out of a cheesy Hallmark movie, which was usually something that Emma steered away from. But there was something about Killian, something she couldn't place her finger on that drew her in. But then, when she looked in his eyes, really looked at him, she saw it. He was just like her, someone who had been hurt in the past so badly that it left a twinge of sadness on his face. But with how he was flirting with her, how he was trying with her, he had taken his own walls down and was opening up. She knew he saw himself reflected in her and was trying to do the same for her.

"It was my pleasure, love," he said, taking a step toward her.

She wished she was ready to take a step forward, wished she could close the gap he was offering to let her close. But she wasn't there just yet. So, she shuffled her feet backward slightly and didn't miss the look of disappointment on his face. "My car is this way," she said, nodding over her shoulder.

"My apartment is this way," he replied, pointing in the opposite direction. "So, I'll see you tomorrow."

Emma nodded, giving him a little wave before starting back down the street. Her mind drifted to the next day and how she now hoped the guy her friends were setting her up with would turn out terribly. It would be the last nudge she would need; she just knew it. And if it did turn out badly, she wanted to be able to see Killian there.

"Killian," she called down the street over the wind.

Killian turned, a hopeful look on his face, not yet completely down the street. "Yes, love?" He asked.

"Would you like to come to the party these cookies are for? I won't know that many people there. It would be nice to see a familiar face," she asked, hoping the last minute invitation would stick.

But, his face dropped, giving her a small frown. "Sorry, darling. I have a previous engagement, and if I don't show up, I'll probably get the mickey taken out of me." As much as she hated that he couldn't come, she was glad to see that he wished he could accept. "Another time, lass."

"Another time," she replied before turning back and walking down the street. She didn't want to be disappointed; it was another reason that she rarely opened up to people. If you let them in, they just let you down. But that wasn't Killian's fault, and she knew that. She knew where he worked. If the blind date went horribly, she might just make it a habit to frequent Granny's bakery.

* * *

Emma had been felt a twinge of sadness when she had shown up at the bakery to get the cookies and Killian was already gone. He had left her a voicemail while she was getting ready for the party, telling her that her cookies were ready to be picked up. Granny had looked at her knowingly when she had asked for Killian and told her she would let him know she asked for him. Emma almost told her not to but decided against it; she wanted Killian to know that she was interested.

The party was in full swing, but the guy David and Mary Margaret had planned to set her up with had yet to show up. He had called them spouting about car trouble, but something told her he was just as iffy about the meeting as she was. She didn't blame him; blind dates hardly ever worked out anyway.

"Emma, I hope you don't let this get you down," Mary Margaret said, handing her a glass of wine. "He's actually really dependable and kind and funny and—"

"Mary Margaret, you don't have to talk him up. If he doesn't show, he doesn't show. It's fine. Being stood up for a date isn't about to make or break my psyche." In all honestly, it was what she had hoped for. It was a sign that maybe it was time for her to move on with the person that had been running through her mind since she had first heard him speak.

Her friend looked her over, and slowly, her eyes started to widen. Emma thought for a second that there was something on her face that shouldn't have been there. "What is it?"

"You've met someone!" Mary Margaret all but shouted. "I thought you were acting differently."

Emma's brows knitted in confusion. How exactly was she acting to make her friend think that she had met someone? She wasn't strictly wrong, but she wasn't ready for Mary Margaret to know. Her friend tended to be over excited about things, especially her relationship status. It had taken some time before Emma opened up to her, but once she had learned of her messy past, Mary Margaret had done her best to help take her walls down.

"Don't worry about it. It could be nothing."

"But it could be something," Mary Margaret said hopefully. "Those walls of yours, Emma. They may keep out pain, but they also keep out love." Her gaze suddenly moved around Emma and her eyes widened. "Oh, he's here! Do you want me to tell him you left early?"

Emma shook her head, downing the rest of her glass of wine. "It's fine. Just bring him over here."

Mary Margaret waved them over, and Emma took a deep breath before turning around. David smiled as he walked over with his friend, and as soon as her eyes landed on him, eye mouth dropped. A look that was mirrored on his face. It was unbelievable, the odds astronomical. _Seriously_ , she thought. _What are the odds?_

"Emma," David said, a wide smile on his face. "This is—"

"Killian," Emma interrupted, chuckling under her breath. "This was your previous engagement?"

"This is the party you needed three hundred cookies for?" He asked, his tone similar. Amused yet disbelieving.

"You two know each other?" David asked, completely confused by the turn of events. "How do you two know each other?"

"It's a long story," Emma said, still unable to take her eyes off Killian. David knew that meant she didn't want to talk about it yet.

Killian had cleaned up quite well, a black jacket over a deep red shirt. There were just enough buttons left untouched to show a little chest hair peeking out. Those stubborn tufts of hair were still falling on his brow despite the fact that it seemed he had tried to make his hair cooperate. She could see his eyes taking her outfit in, her favorite red dress that hugged in all the best places.

"Would you like to dance, Emma?" Killian asked, stepping up and holding out his hand.

"Gladly," she replied, taking his hand. The faster they could get away from her friends to talk, the better.

As Killian led her out to where other couples were dancing, she was still trying to wrap her head around how incredibly coincidental it was. She had told herself that if the blind date went horribly awry, she would give Killian a chance. Never in her thoughts had she imagined that her blind date would end up _being_ Killian. He had seemed just as shocked as she was. She wasn't one to believe in fate or destiny, but it was hard not to when something like this happened.

"So, what are the chances that you would be the person my friends set me up with?" Emma asked as he pulled her into an embrace, swaying to the music.

"I could ask you the same question. It's actually a wonder we haven't met before. I've been friends with David for quite some time." Killian easily moved them across the floor, and that was just another thing to add to the list of things he had going for him. "But you've known him longer, seeing as you're his sister."

"Adoptive sister," Emma corrected, but she never felt that way. David was so protective of her that she might as well be related to him by blood. So, if David was setting her up with someone, she knew they were a good person. He had always had a bad feeling about Neal, but Emma hadn't listened to him. "But all the same, David must like you a lot if he thought we'd be good together. How do you know him?"

"We met when I was stationed here for a few months at a bar. I beat him at darts, he bought me a drink, and you know how it goes. So, when I moved back here, David and I started hanging out regularly," Killian explained, smiling down at her. He still had an amazed look on his face, and it made Emma blush. "I think he wanted to make sure that I was a good man before he introduced us."

"Seems fate had another idea, didn't it?" Emma asked, smiling brightly. It was hard not to when their situation was as crazy as it was.

They continued to dance until the music ended, and then sat at a table for the rest of the night and just talked. Killian told her about the heartbreak that had driven him to join the Navy, and Emma found it so easy, far easier than it had ever been, to open up to him. Mostly because they were so similar. He knew what her pain felt like in a way that no one else did, and that made talking to him that much easier. Kindred spirits through and through, he said. She believed it. He offered to drive her home that night since she had taken a cab, and she accepted because she found that she wasn't ready to leave his company yet.

"You know I was planning on calling you tomorrow when this blind date didn't work out," Killian said, walking her up to her door.

Emma couldn't help but laugh as they made their way up the stairs. It was funny how they had the same train of thought in that regard. "I was planning on coming by the bakery tomorrow when this blind date went disastrously."

"Funny how that all works out," he said, and his eyes drifted up as they made it to her door. He bit his lip, chuckling. "Funny how that works out, too."

Emma looked up and shook her head. Mistletoe. Of course. "I didn't plan that," she said, pointing at all of her neighbor's doors. "My neighbor does this every year. She's old, always tries setting the single ladies up with her grandsons."

"Well, you'll just have to tell her that you're off the market," Killian said, stepping up, his lips being worried between his teeth again.

"Is that so?" Emma asked, taking a step forward this time. She was starting to feel ready; it would take some time to tear down her walls completely, but she could already notice that there were a couple of bricks missing. "What makes you say that?"

"Well that all depends on the answer to this next question." She could see a sense of nervousness move over his face, and it was nice to see the confidence that exuded from him taken down for just a second. "I have tickets to the Celtics/Hawks game next Friday. I was going to take your brother, but I would gladly ditch him for you."

Emma pretended to think about it, just to watch him worry for a second before giving him a grin. "Lucky for you, I like basketball."

"So is that a yes?" He asked hopefully, and Emma thought he was more adorable than he had been before.

"That's a yes."

Killian started to close the gap but stopped short enough for her to back out, giving her the option of whether she wanted to kiss him or not. Truth be told, she had been wanted to kiss him since the night before. She had fought the urge when they were making cookies together but had kept herself from doing it when he got too close. But now, standing in her hallway after getting to know him that much more, she wanted nothing more than to give into that desire. So, she leaned in, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips to hers.

To say that there were sparks would be an understatement, and normally, that would have scared her, but she was trying. Trying to open up again, trying to trust, trying to let things go. Emma felt his hands go around her back, pulling her into him. The mistletoe had been an excuse to finally do it, but once their lips met, it was just instinct. She would have to learn to go on that rather than her old instinct to just run.

Emma was the one to pull away, smiling as she rested her forehead against his. "Wow," she started, sucking in a breath. "That was…"

"Not a one-time thing," he said, looking up at her, optimistically. "I mean, I hope it wasn't."

"I guess we'll just have to find out," Emma said, stepping back. She moved to her door to unlock it. She opened the door, but before stepping inside, she turned back to Killian, moving back to kiss his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Killian."

Killian stood there until she had stepped inside her door, closing it firmly, and locking it. "Merry Christmas, indeed."


End file.
